Fate's Pawn 8

 

Chapter 8

 

Six young people and two mules set out.

Alathan was, he said, going to catch up with them. This was met with unspoken scepticism by everyone but Kaz, who rather assumed that a hero of the cult could hop around like a spirit might. He had not denied being a hero, after all.

They were to go by road north to Kallos, on Lake Hudrogeminas, a dumbbell-shaped lake, and then decide whether to carry on round the edge of the lake by trade road not patrolled by Selenites to Melokome, at the head of the lake, and into the hill country before the Toróg Mountains, or whether to follow the River Rhighydros through a pass in a mountainous ridge, and hope to find silver star west of the lands Kaz knew.

“I know my way around the hill country and the Toróg Mountains, but we are not large in number nor especially strong, individually or as a group,” she told her fellows. “And we are all of us in danger of being eaten if caught. The other route takes us into the southern range of the Toróg Mountains, a less populated area.”

“I think we should try that; there’s no point in courting trouble,” said Lelyn.

“I agree,” said Protasion.

The others nodded.

They had learned a lot from fighting the Marsh-Creepers, and Svargia, though she had not been with them for that, was close to having the level of skills demanded for initiation, but to court trouble with the Toróg would be foolhardy.

“Pity we won’t have Alathan with us; he’s dead hard,” said Protasion.

“He’ll join us after Kallos,” said Kaz, calmly.

“But how?” asked Protasion.

“There’s more to him than meets the eye. But we will be stopping in at the temple in Kallos, with despatches from Commandant Pythas, but he says that the commandant in Kallos is a hidebound old twerp whose brain rusted as soon as it achieved the honour of iron, but I never heard it from him.”

“And why is that a problem for Alathan?” asked Svargia.

“He’s a Glyph-Lord or something, isn’t he? Not an initiate,” guessed Lelyn.

“I think he’s either a Hero of the cult or questing towards it,” said Kaz. “And helping us also helps him.”

“Pushing you onward to undertake what all those ruddy bell chimes want, you mean,” said Protasion.

“And that,” said Kaz. “He said I’d probably get shouted at.”

“Why?” asked Svargia.

“Because Lord Pythas felt it behoved him to let Lord, er, Sklerynos, know about the cure for cursed Toróg wounds, but he thinks he won’t believe it, especially that a Trógling knew it. So he isn’t even telling Lord Skerynos it was me, but only that we are on a mission to collect silver star and to offer to get some for his temple healers as well. We won’t have to, which is the loss of Kallos; but Lord Pythas asked if Alathan would take the knowledge to Melokome, where they can send out their own searchers.”

“So, effectively, he went ahead of us and will double back?” said Protasion.

“Yes,” said Kaz, deciding not to discuss her theories about some people managing to slip through the spirit world with their bodies and shift a good deal quicker than the mark-one foot.

 

The traffic on the road to Kallos was quite brisk, frequent Selenite patrols passed, calling on other travellers to halt and state their business.

“Cult business,” snapped Kaz.

“What cult?” demanded the big, officious officer. “And what cult business?”

“You have no authority to question me on that, and you know it,” said Kaz. “Our cult business is that, cult business. And if you can’t read glyphs to figure out who we are, maybe you should go back home and ask your priestess to teach you to buckle sandals and wave bye-bye. You do it like this: bye-bye!” she waved a contemptuous little wave, and lifted her arm to drop it forward, moving into a smooth run, her companions following her, right past the bemused Selenites.

By the time the officer had realised what was going on, and shouted a futile order to halt, and got his men turned around, the fit young Alethosi had gone too far for him to have any chance of catching up. And it would be a foolish fellow indeed who cast battle magic on fellow road users who knew how far he could, and how far he could not, go.

“Slow down, Kaz, the rest of us are splitting our sides laughing, and getting a stitch,” said Lelyn. “That was priceless!”

“Harkon went through with me how far their remit goes,” said Kaz. “They are not the law here in Limnesthos, only having some jurisdiction over the roads they build.”

“Yes, but you still have to have glyph-carved cast iron ones to just tell them to take a running jump like that,” said Protasion. “What?” Kuros poked him.

“Doesn’t have any balls, cast iron or otherwise. Female,” said Kuros, and went dull red.

“Metaphorical, same as our female Glyph-Lords are still Lords, not ladies,” said Protasion.

“I accept the accolade in the spirit in which it was intended but at least Kuros has some understanding of anatomy,” said Kaz.

They walked on, as the mules were unwilling to run for long, splitting to go each side of a slave coffle mending the road under the eyes of some bored Selenite guards.

“I hate slavery,” said Kaz. “I want to free them all, but we can’t move too soon.”

“It’s a bit obvious, we’d have to kill the guards,” said Lelyn.

“Perhaps if they are still here on the way back, we can camp nearby and free them overnight,” said Kuros.

“Good thought,” said Kaz. “They looked mostly like plainsfolks to me.”

“I agree,” said Svargia. “If freed they shouldn’t have trouble evading capture. If they can cross the river by Mesolimnos they’re away almost onto the plains right away.”

“Out of Selenite influence, anyway, in the drylands,” said Kaz. “There are a sufficiency of rivers and creeks though to survive the drylands, especially if they either stay closer to the lakes or go west to the chaparral near the mountains.”

They passed some traders with a baggage train of mules, nodding in greeting. They were not the only traders they saw. Mostly they were human, though one group had Toróg guards, heavily veiled for travelling during the day.

“A lot of trade from one city to the other,” said Kaz.

“There’s copper in the mountains we’ll pass through when we go up the valley of the Rhighoros,” said Protasion. “Well, I never thought that having a tutor would come in useful, but I suppose it’s worth knowing why there’s trade and how much. There’s some gold there, too, and silver, and lead. Also precious stones, malachite, azurite, and so on. The miner’s women make beads.”

“They trade as far as the plains,” said Svargia.

“Kallos is a centre of jewellery making,” said Lelyn. “Toróg trade gemstones via Melokome, and there are freshwater pearls in the lake off Kallos. There are strict rules about sewerage, which has to go into settling beds and then filter through sand so as not to upset the mussel beds, It makes good compost, but it can also go ablaze. My parents were based in Kallos before there was a vacancy for a Commandant in Mesolimnos.”

“Why does it go ablaze?” asked Kaz

“I’m not sure; something to do with the gas given off by human waste,” said Lelyn.

“Like, you can set light to your farts?” said Evgon.

“You can?” said Kaz.

“Oh, yes,” said Protasion.

“Boys and men,” said Svargia.

“Isn’t it risky?” said Kaz.

“Yes,” said Svargia. “If they get blowback it takes more than one healing spell.”

“And I’m not healing anyone stupid enough to do it,” said Kaz.

“I wonder if we could capture any of the gas to use to explode,” said Protasion.

“Come up with a plan, and we can consider it,” said Kaz.

“It’s the same as marsh gas,” said Lelyn. “The marsh-sprites trap it and use it as lights to lead folk astray so they can overwhelm tired out isolated travellers to eat.”

“What singularly unpleasant places marshes are,” said Kaz. “Keep an eye out for a likely place to camp; I do not especially want to go on to the Selenite inn.”

 

Presently, Kuros pointed off the road to a spinney. They went to look it over, and found that the spinney stood atop sandy cliffs at the edge of the lake. There was a reasonable beach.

“The lake must once have been fuller,” said Kaz.

“Or flooded,” said Protasion.

“Well, there’s a line of detritus where the spring floods made it rise; there’s almost bound to be some wood there to get it started,” said Kaz. “Get a fire going against the cliff; it’s a fine enough night, we’ll put our bedding bundles on bracken from the spinney. Svargia, with me, we’ll see if we can catch some supper in the spinney, and collect some more wood.”

 

Svargia was good with a bow, and brought down a couple of pigeons, and Kaz took down a big coney with her sling. Svargia said a prayer for the lives of their prey to the beast-god, to pacify him, and Kaz proceeded to gut and skin their catch. There were cook-pots on the mules, and with a few herbs, two of the onions and three carrots, the mixed game made an adequate stew, cooked slow, whilst they might collect bracken for bedding, feed the mules, who might also crop the grass where the spinney slumped down the slope towards the lake. A spring provided plenty of water, and bells on a string between the trees would warn of anyone approaching through the spinney. A guard set would watch along the shore.

As they sat, eating, they heard the sound of shackles and a doleful sounding song in a lilting language Kaz did not know. Svargia’s face was full of homesickness, and Kaz took her hand.

“They must be housed at the barracks at the inn,” said Protasion, softly. “We could scout it out....”

“It would be good practice to do so, even if there is no way of rescuing them,” agreed Kaz.

“Most Selenite work gangs live in a compound made of logs cut as stakes,” said Lelyn. “One end has a fourth wall built to make the hut, and a log roof to make it too hard to break out of it, one end has a latrine pit, and they are taken off the coffle and sent inside one at a time, and they come out one at a time. The door is narrow and low to make them come out sideways, bending, and singly. Food is passed through a slot in the locked door. Water is plentiful, and there’s a tank with a faucet through the wall. There’s a Decem of soldiers, ten, an officer, an adjutant, and eight actual troops, four on duty during the day, and two pairs in watches overnight. Daddy made me learn all their dispositions for when we might be fighting them,” she added.

“Sensible man,” said Kaz. “And the night guard?”

“They watch the gate, and make sure the slaves aren’t too noisy,” said Lelyn.

“So, there’s a weak point at the back of the slave hut,” said Kaz. “Anyone here able to cast the highest rank of sharpblade?”

“I can,” said Svargia. “What good is that, though? We can’t take down ten professional soldiers.”

“On an axe,” said Kaz. “A silencing spell around where we cut a hole through.”

There was a long silence.

“So simple I never thought of it,” said Protasion. “I was thinking of overcoming the night guards and unlocking the slaves quietly without waking the day guards.”

“We can use our brains as keenly as a sword,” said Kaz.

“The logs will be lashed together; if we can cut the lashings, we could maybe replace them, and nobody know how it happened, on first appearance,” said Kuros.

“That, we can decide when we get there,” said Kaz. “Even if we cut a hole, though, we could put back the logs we cut, and it will take a search; I doubt it’s very light in there, and they won’t notice right away.”

“But what are they going to think?” asked Svargia.

“Why, when they see the strange runic circle on the floor, with unfamiliar runes, they are going to assume they were rescued using Plainsman god-magic,” said Kaz.

“We don’t have any special runes,” said Svargia.

“You do now,” said Kaz. “Oh, come on! I can make up some realistic runes.”

“Oh! Oh, I see,” said Svargia. “Misdirection.”

“Yes; because then if we can keep it hidden, we can do it again,” said Kaz.

“Oh! I see,” said Protasion. “I wondered why you were bothering.”

“We need one person to stay here with the mules, and also to be on watch while we sleep for a couple of hours now,” said Kaz.

“I’ll do it,” said Evgon. “I’m growing so fast I fall over my feet, and you don’t want anyone clumsy to give you away.”

“You’ll soon grow into your feet,” said Kaz. “Good, that’s sorted. Now, let’s finish off eating and hunker down.”

“What shall we do with the rest of the stew?” asked Lelyn. “It won’t go round a full meal.”

“It’ll flavour a savoury gruel for breakfast,” said Kaz.

They put out the fire, and curled up in their bedding, well enough trained to at least doze on command, despite the excitement they felt.

It was going to be a very busy night.